On a Turning Tide

by Ellie Dean

  ‘Was that thunder I heard last night?’ she asked when the fuss had died down and she’d freshened the pot of tea with more hot water.

  ‘I didn’t hear anything,’ said Cordelia.

  ‘That’s hardly surprising, Grandma Cordy,’ said Ivy. ‘Yer bad enough at the best of times; but without yer ’earing aid switched on, you’ve no chance.’

  ‘Don’t be cheeky,’ said Cordelia, unperturbed. ‘You wait until you get to my age, then you’ll see it’s no laughing matter.’

  ‘Well, I thought I heard the rumble of a thunderstorm,’ said Peggy determinedly. ‘Though it was odd considering how cold and wet it’s been.’

  ‘I thought I heard something too,’ said Sarah, who was opening yet another letter from her mother. ‘But it didn’t sound like thunder.’

  ‘You’re right, Sarah, it wasn’t,’ said Rita, coming into the kitchen from the basement in her fire service uniform. ‘It was a Lancaster bomber which didn’t quite make it to the airfield.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ breathed Peggy. ‘Did anyone survive?’

  Rita shook her head, her expression grim as she shrugged off her thick coat. ‘The fire team from the airfield got there at the same time as us. They’d been told it was shot up and flying on one engine – too low for anyone to bail out.’

  She kicked off her sturdy boots. ‘It came down right on the ruined farmhouse and exploded. They clearly hadn’t ditched all their bombs, because it went off several times and fairly shook the ground beneath us. There was nothing anyone could do but put the fire out, and then retrieve the bodies.’

  ‘Oh, Rita, how awful!’ gasped Sarah. ‘I don’t know how you can bear to deal with things like that.’

  ‘Someone’s got to,’ she replied flatly. She bent to kiss Daisy, wish her a happy birthday and admire her finery. She smothered a vast yawn and then stretched. ‘I had breakfast at the fire station, so I’m going to have a bath and then get to bed to catch up on some sleep before I finish tuning Pete’s motorbike.’

  ‘You mean he’s actually given in to your nagging and said you could tinker with it?’ asked Ivy in surprise.

  ‘Not exactly,’ Rita replied with the ghost of a smile, ‘but it seemed silly to just let it sit there at the airfield when I’m perfectly capable of getting it going properly.’

  Ivy’s brown eyes widened. ‘But how did you get it from there? Surely you didn’t just go in and take it?’

  ‘Of course not, silly. I chatted up the guard on the gate whose bike I’d mended some time ago and he brought it out to me. I’m keeping it at the fire station.’ To avoid any further discussion, she left the room and hurried upstairs.

  ‘I am thinking she is wanting to surprise him when he comes home,’ said Danuta, putting on the red beret and gabardine raincoat which was part of her winter uniform.

  ‘He’ll be surprised all right,’ said Ivy. ‘But I doubt he’ll be pleased. Pete wanted to do the tuning himself.’

  ‘Ah yes, but he has more important things to do in Belgium. Best for Rita to see to the bike – she is very good mechanic,’ replied Danuta.

  ‘I know she is.’ Ivy pulled her thin coat on over her dungarees and belted it tightly at the waist. ‘But you know what blokes are like. They can get very dog in the manger about their stupid engines.’

  Danuta frowned. ‘Peter has dog?’

  Ivy giggled and explained before glancing at the clock. ‘Oh, Gawd,’ she breathed, ‘I’m gonna be late again! Bye, everyone!’

  ‘I too must go,’ said Danuta, picking up her medical bag as Ivy clattered out of the house.

  Sarah gave a distracted wave to her, but Peggy noticed that she was more concerned with her letter. ‘What is it, dear?’ she asked. ‘Your mother making more plans?’

  ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘She’s received a POW postcard from Pops.’ She handed over the letter, her face pale and drawn with worry.

  Peggy quickly scanned the scrawled writing.

  I know you think I’m making too much of things and planning for this unknown future with perhaps rather too much enthusiasm, but you see I’ve been keeping a secret from you. I would have told you earlier, but I didn’t dare tempt fate, or dash any of your hopes. Now it seems only right to tell you that I received a postcard from your father four months ago. It was sent from some POW camp in Burma. The wording made it clear that Jock was restricted to saying very little. He wrote only that he was well and gainfully employed, and that the camp was very accommodating, but not half as luxurious as Petaling Street.

  Peggy frowned. ‘I don’t understand. What’s Petaling Street?’

  ‘It’s a shanty slum area and red-light district of Kuala Lumpur,’ said Sarah. ‘Pops was making it clear that conditions were dire in the camp, and used the example because the Japs wouldn’t know what he was talking about.’

  ‘I can’t believe your mother kept this from you all this time,’ said Peggy, returning the letter to her. ‘What on earth did she think she’d gain by it?’

  ‘She explains further on in the letter that as there was no mention of Philip, she’d hoped there would be a card from him too, and then she could give me even better news. She didn’t want me to lose hope, you see,’ she added softly.

  ‘Oh, Sarah,’ Peggy sighed, taking her hand, lost for any words of real comfort.

  Sarah squeezed her fingers in reply and pushed back from the table. ‘There’s nothing I can do about it, Aunt Peggy. That card was written so long ago, anything could have happened to him since.’

  ‘At least we know he survived Changi prison,’ said Cordelia. ‘So we mustn’t give up hope that at least one of them might come home.’ She kissed Sarah’s cheek. ‘I wish I could do or say something to ease your worries, Sarah, but the Fullers are a strong and determined lot and my brother’s son is no exception, I’m sure.’

  Sarah kissed her back and pulled on her coat. ‘I have to go to work,’ she muttered. ‘Don’t worry about me, either of you. Nothing’s really changed. I’ll just have to wait and see what happens when this war is over.’

  There was a heavy silence in the kitchen once Sarah had left. Cordelia wiped her eyes on her handkerchief and purposefully returned to reading her newspaper, clearly not wanting to discuss her nephew’s plight.

  Peggy fretted about what all this was doing to young Sarah. She was already between the devil and the deep, and her mother’s shattering revelation must have hit her hard. Silly woman, keeping a thing like that to herself, she thought crossly. And what on earth possessed her to tell Sarah now when the news out of Burma and Siam is proving to be so horrific?

  Peggy realised she had no answer to any of it and was as much in the dark as Sarah and Cordelia, so she finished her cup of tea with a cigarette and watched Daisy playing with her new doll.

  There was still no sign of Ron or Harvey by the time she’d finished the dishes, mopped the floor and made her bed, so Peggy went down to check on the ferrets. If he’d slept here last night their bedding would have been freshened before he left for his morning walk – if he’d been at Rosie’s, then she’d have to do it. It really was the limit never knowing where he was from one night to the next.

  Ron’s bed was made and it looked as if the two ferrets had clean bedding, so that was one thing less to worry about. But had the chickens been fed? Peggy gave a sigh. It would come as a bit of a relief when he finally moved out with his ferrets, for she’d know then where she stood.

  Peggy checked the bowl of chicken feed, and finding it empty, had to assume the birds had been fed – but just in case they hadn’t, she gave them a couple of handfuls anyway. Hurrying upstairs to the kitchen, she tried and failed to persuade Daisy to exchange the birthday dress and shoes for something more hard-wearing, so to avoid a tantrum, she put a change of clothes in her string bag and let Daisy have her way for once. Nanny Pringle would sort her out.

  ‘You’re leaving early this morning,’ said Cordelia, eyeing her over her half-moon glasses.

  ‘I want to check t
hat Mavis hasn’t been meddling with my files,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure she’s been poking through things that don’t concern her.’

  Cordelia raised questioning brows. ‘Like what?’

  ‘There are personal files on all the women who work for us, and I have special responsibility for those who work the day shifts. Loretta put those files together over the years so she could have a fully rounded picture of everyone. They contain medical reports, family history and so on, and as such could provide ammunition for someone like Mavis to cause trouble.’

  ‘She sounds most unsavoury,’ said Cordelia with a sniff. ‘I can’t think why Solly ever employed her.’

  ‘Neither can I, but it seems we’re stuck with her,’ replied Peggy, wrestling Daisy into her coat and putting her wellingtons into the string bag. ‘Production is up, and there’s been very few ructions amongst the workforce so far. As long as that continues, Solly won’t want to upset the apple cart.’

  ‘So what are you worried about, Peggy?’

  Peggy hunted out Daisy’s woollen mittens. ‘I know Mavis of old,’ she said, ‘and I get the feeling she’s up to something. I need to find out what it is and nip it in the bud. Which is why I’m going in early.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ sighed Cordelia. ‘I do hope it doesn’t lead to trouble for you.’

  ‘I can handle Mavis,’ she replied briskly.

  Peggy reached for her raincoat, umbrella and scarf and changed the subject. ‘What are your plans for the day, Cordy? Is Bertie taking you out somewhere nice in his car?’

  ‘Not today, dear,’ she replied. ‘He’s saving himself for Ron’s bachelor party tonight – as I shall be saving my energies for our do at the Anchor.’

  ‘Where are the men going? Do you know?’

  ‘The Crown and Gloria Stevens are definitely out of bounds, as is the Anchor, of course. I think they’re starting at the Officers’ Club, going on to the Working Men’s Club, and if they’re still capable, finishing off at the Fishermen’s Club.’ She chuckled. ‘They’ll probably be found fast asleep under some hedge tomorrow and in no fit state for anything.’

  Peggy grinned. ‘At least they’re not doing it tomorrow night, so they’ll have a day to get over it. Who’s going?’

  ‘The usual rambunctious crowd, plus Colonel White, Frank and Robert. Ron told me yesterday morning that there would have been twelve of them all told, but that Solly had to pull out because something’s cropped up which he couldn’t avoid.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ Peggy sighed. ‘I know how much he was looking forward to it. Still, that’s quite an army. I pity any poor barman trying to keep that lot in order.’

  Cordelia shrugged. ‘I’m sure they’ll have seen far worse behaviour when the Yanks and Australians were in town. But what about Rosie? I bet she’s getting excited now the big day is almost upon us.’

  Peggy grinned. ‘She’s in a complete tizzy, and who can blame her after waiting so long to pin him down? We’re going to give her the best send-off ever, Cordy, so you’d better have a good afternoon nap so you’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, all ready to join in the fun.’

  She glanced at the clock and gave her a kiss and a hug. ‘I must go, Cordy. Have a lovely day, and I’ll see you at six.’ Hurrying down the steps, she waited for Daisy to climb into the pushchair with her new doll and then headed for the factory.

  The sun was fairly bright, but the wind cut like a knife as she exchanged greetings with some of the women who were shivering in the long queues outside the shops, and waved to Rosie who was polishing the inside of the bar windows.

  There were two sets of factory gates, and the men and women of the day shift were pouring through one to take over from the night-shift workers who were streaming out of the other. The recruitment drive had been a great success, for some of the other factories had cut down on their staff as production had tailed off, and middle-aged men had started to return as the temporary airfields and army bases had been decommissioned and closed down. Solly’s factory was working at full capacity, and Peggy could feel the positive energy running through the crowd as she let it carry her through the gates.

  Nanny Pringle opened the door and smiled broadly at Daisy, wishing her a happy birthday. As the toddler rushed in to show off her doll to her little friends, Peggy gave her the bag of clothes.

  ‘Please try and change her into these,’ she said. ‘And if you could, I’d really appreciate it if you’d hide the doll before it gets wrecked.’

  ‘I’ll see to it all immediately,’ Nanny Pringle replied. ‘That doll is far too delicate for such a small child.’

  ‘It was a present from her father,’ said Peggy. ‘It’s very lovely, but not at all practical.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Peggy. I’ll make sure it comes to no harm.’

  Feeling grateful that Nanny was a woman of great common sense, Peggy went into the factory, waited her turn to clock on, then weaved her way through the machines towards her office.

  The cleaners were busy sweeping up threads, lint and remnants, and the day shift was settling in, exchanging a bit of gossip as they shed their coats and bags and checked their machines over. Peggy returned their greetings but didn’t stop to chat, for time was of the essence if the government orders were to be filled on schedule.

  She could see Winnie Holman patiently instructing one of the new women on how to thread the baffling industrial sewing machine, so she smiled and returned her nod of acknowledgement and looked around for Gladys Bright. But Gladys was nowhere to be seen, and someone else was sitting at her machine, which was very odd.

  Peggy changed course and approached Winnie.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said brightly, nodding and smiling to the other women in the line. ‘How are you managing, Winnie?’

  ‘Phyllis will get the hang of it soon enough,’ she replied. ‘It’s only her second day, so I can’t expect too much yet.’

  ‘I hope you and Gladys haven’t fallen out,’ she said quietly, nodding towards the seat Gladys usually occupied.

  Winnie’s expression darkened and her mouth compressed into a thin line.

  Oh, lawks, thought Peggy. They’ve had one of their flaming rows and Gladys has taken umbrage and gone off to sit somewhere else. ‘Where is she?’ she asked, looking round. ‘Only I wanted to see how she’s doing with Angela Smith.’

  ‘Me and Gladys ain’t fallen out,’ she snapped. ‘She’s been put on nights.’ Her expression soured further. ‘She’s not happy about it, and neither am I.’

  Peggy frowned, for Gladys never did nights. ‘But if she doesn’t want to do nights, she doesn’t have to.’

  Winnie shrugged and the corners of her mouth turned down. ‘Seems she ain’t got no choice now that bossy bitch is in charge,’ she said, jerking her head towards Peggy’s office.

  Peggy glanced across at the shadowy figure moving about behind the glass partition and gritted her teeth. ‘I’m in charge, Winnie – at least during the days. I’ll have a word with Mrs Whitlock and sort this out.’

  ‘Won’t do you no good,’ the other woman replied. ‘Gladys made me promise not to make a fuss about it, and that Anderson cow is as stubborn as a bloody mule when it comes to getting her own way.’

  ‘We’ll see about that,’ Peggy muttered under her breath as she headed for her office.

  She opened the door just as Mavis slammed the filing cabinet drawer shut. Peggy knew she’d locked that drawer last night. ‘Those files are private,’ she said, dumping her bag on the desk and shedding her coat. ‘And you have no business going through them without my permission.’

  ‘I have every right,’ said Mavis coolly. ‘I’m as much in charge here as you, and I need to know what sort of women I have to deal with.’

  ‘Those files in that drawer relate only to the staff who work the day shift,’ said Peggy, ‘which is why I locked it and took the key home. The night-shift files are in the bottom one.’

  ‘I need to have an overall understanding of all the staff,’ s
aid Mavis. ‘In case you’re absent.’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ retorted Peggy, examining the drawer. She pointedly ran her finger over the deep scratches around the lock where Mavis had forced it open with the nail file she’d just slipped into her pocket. She held Mavis’s glare. ‘I shall get maintenance to change the lock today, and if you need to get at those files, then you’ll have to ask me or Mr Goldman for the key.’

  ‘It’s not difficult to see that a little bit of power has turned your head,’ Mavis said with a sniff. ‘But then you always did have a smug sense of self-importance.’

  Peggy gave her a withering look and refused to rise to the bait. ‘I understand you’ve put Gladys Bright on night shift,’ she said instead. ‘Would you like to explain why?’

  ‘I felt she was better suited to keeping check on things than that insolent Rawson girl Loretta put in charge. She’s disruptive, won’t take orders and is inclined to stir the others up.’

  In other words, thought Peggy, she’s stood up to you. ‘I want Gladys back on days tomorrow morning, and Fanny Rawson back in her assistant role on nights.’ She cut Mavis’s protest short. ‘And before you go running to Mr Goldman telling tales, you should know that he regards both women very highly, which is why he approved of their appointments.’

  She looked at the clock and sat down behind the desk. ‘Your shift is over, Mavis. Shut the door on your way out.’

  If looks could kill, Peggy was certain she’d have been stone dead before Mavis had slammed the door and stalked off. She waited until she was out of sight and then blew out the breath she’d been holding. It hadn’t been a pleasant way to start the day – yet it had confirmed her suspicions that Mavis was snooping.

  She sat there for a moment to look through the office memos, and then went to the filing cabinet and pulled out the files on Gladys and Fanny Rawson. She hadn’t really had a chance to go through any of them properly, and it would be interesting to discover what Mavis had found out about them which had brought about this deliberate change in routine. But most intriguing of all, why weren’t both women complaining long and loud about it? Neither was known for holding their tongues when they thought an injustice had been done to them, and they had a perfect right to refuse the change of shift. Fanny would be losing the extra ten bob a week, and Gladys had worked alongside Winnie for years. In fact, they were practically joined at the hip. And yet there hadn’t been a peep out of either of them.